


The Thief

by Toad1



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Backstory, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toad1/pseuds/Toad1
Summary: During a routine supply run with Kobra Kid, a sudden confrontation forces Cherri Cola to confront his past. He's told his friends about his background, but how much do they really know? And how will Kobra react when he finds out?





	The Thief

Cherri Cola awoke to the sound of wind howling outside. He stirred and pushed himself to a sitting position, rubbing his forehead. Vague, unsettling images still flitted through his mind. He got dressed in the darkness and headed to the kitchen, where an engine rumbled outside. Two headlights glowed through the curtains. Cherri opened the door to see Kobra Kid stepping out of the car, his figure illuminated by the headlights.  
  
“Hey, man,” Kobra said. “You ready?”  
  
“Yeah, just let me grab my stuff,” Cherri said. He laughed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Sorry. I think I overslept.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Kobra said. “It’s 5 A.M., man. I get it.”  
  
Cherri hurried back inside and packed his bag, then jumped into the car. The sky was dark with a thin streak of orange across the horizon. A few clouds hovered over the mountains in the distance. Kobra cracked the window as he drove, letting the cool air flow inside. The air was silent as if someone had draped a blanket over the entire desert.  
  
When they reached the place marked on the map, streaks of light were starting to appear over the horizon. They walked to a tree with a frayed rope hanging from one of the branches, like the remnants of a tire swing. They grabbed their shovels from the trunk and started to dig. Sweat rolled down the back of Cherri’s neck, despite the cool air. They had scraped out a small crater when Cherri’s shovel suddenly hit something hard. He lifted the shovel, then crouched down and dug around the object with his hands. The leathery corner of a suitcase poked out of the sand.  
  
“Is that it?” Kobra said, leaning over the hole.  
  
“Yeah, that’s it,” Cherri said. “Help me dig around it.”  
  
They dug and scraped around the suitcase, exposing rocks and prickly roots, until a shiny, rusted handle came into view. Cherri crouched down and dug around the suitcase with his hands, then grabbed the handle and hauled it out of the dirt. Sand cascaded down the sides of the suitcase. The leather was cracked and battered, with frayed thread poking from the edges.  
  
“Jesus, that looks old,” Kobra said. “Is that from the Analog Wars?”  
  
“I think so,” Cherri said. “Might even be a little earlier.”  
  
After opening the suitcase to check the items inside, they refilled the hole, then headed back to the car. The sky was tinted with pink and orange, with mountains silhouetted in the distance. The trees and cacti stood dark against the sky. Something dark stirred in Cherri’s memory. He rubbed his forehead, then sank into the passenger’s seat, clutching the suitcase.  
  
“Did you say you wanted to stop at the store first?” Kobra said.  
  
“Yeah, I need to make a few deliveries,” Cherri said. “It shouldn’t take too long. Maybe a couple of hours ago.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Kobra said. “Just refilled the tank yesterday.”  
  
The sky was pale pink and yellow when they pulled up to the old motel. The mountains looked pale and misty in the distance. Tommy Chow Mein was unlocking the front door. Cherri waved a hand in greeting. “Good morning, Cherri,” he said. He nodded at Kobra, then led them inside. A cool feeling washed over Cherri as he entered the dark building.  
  
“Hey, do you mind if I go ahead and place our order for next week?” Kobra said, pulling a crumpled paper out of his pocket. Four different handwritings were scrawled across the page.  
  
“What do you need?” Chow Mein said.  
  
“Not too much. Just emergency fuel, mostly. Jet wants a couple of jugs of water.”  
  
While they discussed the supply order, Cherri headed to the back rooms to pick up the supplies. As he was writing down the order, Chow Mein suddenly stopped writing and clutched his wrist. He winced, rubbing his wrist as if pain had shot through the nerves.  
  
“You having wrist pains?” Kobra said.  
  
“What?” he said. “Oh, yes. It’s just an old injury.”  
  
When Cherri had gathered the supplies, they loaded them into the trunk and headed back on the road. The sky was pale grey. Pale light filtered through the grasses and the fuzzy edges of cacti. Kobra rolled down the window as he drove, the wind whipping through his hair. He rested his arm outside the window.  
  
“So where’s the first stop?” he said.  
  
“There’s a trailer park off highway E,” Cherri said. “It’s about five miles away. I’ve gotta drop off a couple of engine parts.”  
  
Kobra pulled up to the parking lot and waited in the car while Cherri searched for a trailer with green Christmas lights. He knocked on the door, handed the woman her package, and darted back to the car. They took off for an old motel several miles away. Cherri rang the doorbell several times before the door opened. He thought the woman’s eyes lingered on the chain around his neck, but she didn’t mention it. They visited a few more houses, stopped to eat breakfast, then delivered the final package. Finally, only the suitcase remained in the trunk.  
  
“All right, where to next?” Kobra said, switching on the ignition.  
  
“You’re not going to like it,” Cherri said. “I’m warning you now.” He paused. “Tom found a buyer in White River.”  
  
Kobra looked at Cherri in disbelief, then shook his head. “Are you sure they’re even going to let us in?” he said.  “I thought they kicked out that gang from Zone Three.”  
  
“They don’t like gangs,” Cherri said. “But if it’s just the two of us, I think we’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re bringing a whole crowd of people, you know?”  
  
Kobra shrugged. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “When we get there, I’m keeping the car running.”  
  
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a town surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. A deep trough was cut into the earth beside the road, with a murky pool of water in the ditch. Tall grasses hung over the water. Kobra drove through the open gate and parked in front of the building that Cherri pointed out: a long aluminum shack with a red roof. Scrap metal, tires, and oil drums littered the yard in front of the store.  
  
“Are you still staying in the car?” Cherri said.  
  
“Yeah,” Kobra said. “Unless you want me to go with you.”  
  
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Cherri said. “I’ll be just a few minutes, okay?”  
  
Cherri grabbed the suitcase and headed outside. Through the smeary windshield, Kobra watched as Cherri smiled and greeted an elderly woman in a lawn chair. She gripped her cane and shakily rose to her feet, looking at him stonily. Cherri spoke to her for a few minutes, then opened the suitcase. Her expression didn’t change. Kobra scanned the area, but nothing moved except the grasses rustling in the wind.  
  
Suddenly the woman started to speak. Kobra couldn’t make out the words, but her voice was harsh. Cherri looked down and gestured toward his neck. The woman’s voice grew louder. Cherri stepped back, but the woman continued to shout. Kobra switched off the ignition, then jumped outside and slammed the door, his heart racing.  
  
“All right, what’s going on here?” he said.  
  
“It’s fine, Kobra,” Cherri said quickly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
The woman threw up her hand in frustration. “Oh, great, there’s another one,” she said. “Are you another one of the Soldiers?”  
  
“What?” Kobra said.  
  
“He’s not,” Cherri said. “Come on, man. Let’s just get out of here.”  
  
“I knew who you were the second I saw you,” the woman said. “I saw those dog tags and I thought to myself—this child’s way too young to have served in the military. And then I started thinking that I’d heard of your name before.”  
  
“Hey—the past is in the past,” Kobra said. “We’ve all done shit that we regret.”  
  
“Well, I’m not surprise to hear you defending him,” she said. She grabbed her walking stick and turned back to the building. “Shameless, all of you. My niece warned me not to work with Killjoys, and I thought the man I heard on the radio seemed respectable, but he’s obviously just as bad as the rest of you. Tell your boss what’s-his-name that I’m not buying anything from someone who employs a Soldier for Peace.”  
  
Kobra looked at Cherri, who shook his head. “I’m sorry,” Cherri said quietly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come.”  
  
“No one cares if you’re sorry,” the woman said. Her voice took on a sarcastic, dismissive tone. “Why don’t you find those mass graves you threw ‘em in and tell them that you’re sorry. I’m sure that’ll be a big weight off their spirits.”  
  
Cherri’s face was shadowed as he hurried back to the car. Kobra followed him, open-mouthed. They climbed into the car and backed away from the town in silence. As he pulled out onto the highway, Kobra glanced over at Cherri. His expression was unreadable.  
  
“I should’ve gone out there with you,” Kobra said.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Cherri said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Did Chow Mein have any idea that that woman was going to act like that?” Kobra said.  
  
“Probably not, or he wouldn’t have called her,” Cherri said.  
  
Kobra looked over at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “No disrespect.”  
  
“You’re fine, don’t apologize,” Cherri said quietly. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I shouldn’t have gone out there,” he said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he fell silent.  
  
Kobra pressed his lips together, then patted his arm. “Don’t worry about it, man,” he said. “She’s just some old hag. She probably fights with every Killjoy that comes through.”  
  
Once the town had disappeared in the rearview mirror, Cherri contacted Chow Mein on the radio. He made a few callers, but couldn’t find another buyer. In the end, he asked them to come back to the store. Cherri pocketed the transmitter, then drummed his fingers on the edge of the suitcase. He shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if a headache were building.  
  
“Hey,” Kobra said quietly. “Are you going to be okay?”  
  
“What?” Cherri said, looking up. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Just try not to dwell on it too much,” Kobra said. “It’s not worth it. There’s always some asshole out here who’s got something to say.”  
  
Cherri raised his eyebrows. “To be honest with you, I wasn’t thinking about that woman,” he said.  
  
“Yeah?” Kobra said.  
  
Cherri didn’t respond. His expression was tired and distant.  
  
“I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say this, but—it’s in the past, man,” Kobra said quietly. “We’ve all done shit that we regret. God knows that I have.”  
  
“Kobra—” Cherri began, then fell silent. “Kobra, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t think you understand what went on there.”  
  
“What, back at White River?”  
  
“No, when I was a Soldier,” Cherri said. “Look, I’m not trying to be insulting, but you weren’t there. None of you guy were.”  
  
“No, but you’ve told us about it,” Kobra said. “We might not have seen it face-to-face, but we’ve got the idea. We’ve known other people who got sucked into gangs like that, too. I mean, the Soldiers were the worst, but—” He stopped talking. “Look, I’m not trying to talk out of my ass, but I don’t want to see you get yourself down over this.”  
  
“If you knew what I’d done, you wouldn’t say that,” Cherri said.  
  
“I’m not condoning it, but—Christ, man, I don’t know what to say,” Kobra said. “They brainwashed you into believing all kinds of crazy shit. What was it, that Dracs aren’t even people? The masks suck out their souls or some crazy bullshit? You were a teenager dragged into this fucked-up conspiracy cult—”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Cherri said abruptly. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, Kobra, because those people are dead. What, should I tell their families that _Hey, I thought your husband didn’t have a soul, so I fried his brains with a laser?_ Jesus Christ, Kobra, nobody gives a fuck what I thought. You think those Dracs gave a shit when I was lining them up and shooting them one-by-one?”  
  
“No, man, I—I didn’t—”  
  
“You think any of us really gave a shit about that, in the end?” Cherri said. “It wasn’t even about the mission, man. We were a bunch of shitheads getting high and going out to dust Dracs. That’s it. Christ, I was so drugged out of mind that I don’t even remember half the shit that happened. We’d go out, kill some Dracs, then come back and do fuzz until we were all high off our asses. I went on the radio and gave these insane, drugged-out broadcasts every night. I used to get calls from these creeps all over the Zones…” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Kobra, I—I don’t mean any disrespect, but—don’t try to tell me that you know what went on there. You and the guys, you don’t have a clue. Christ, I don’t even remember it half the time.”  
  
They drove in silence for several minutes. Cherri rolled down the window and draped his arm out the window, not looking at Kobra. Kobra gripped the steering wheel until his hands felt numb. The desert seemed to blend together in a dry, prickly blur. He slipped on his sunglasses and focused on the road. Tension hung in the air like lingering cigarette smoke.  
  
After a while, he glanced over at Cherri. He didn’t look up. Kobra took a breath. He was trying to figure out what to say when something stirred on the horizon. Kobra narrowed his eyes. As he drew closer, a woman standing in the middle of the road came into view. She shouted for their attention, jumping and waving her arms.  
  
“What the hell?” Kobra said.  
  
A pick-up truck was parked on the side of the road, the bed covered with a large blue tarp. Two men had opened the hood and were bent over the engine. The woman jumped up and down in the middle of the road. Kobra sighed to himself, then pulled over to the side of the road and rolled down the window. The woman stopped shouting and hurried over.  
  
“Oh, thank God you stopped,” she said. “The engine just died on us. We’re carrying about five pounds of fruit and a jug of milk. We can’t just sit out here, baking in the sunlight.”  
  
“What happened?” Kobra said. “Did the engine just go out while you were driving?”  
  
“Yeah, basically,” she said. “They’ve been working on it for about ten minutes now. Can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.”  
  
“Did you check the ignition switch?” Cherri said. “Sometimes a simple thing like that can kill the whole system.”  
  
“You better get out and take a look,” she said. “You probably know a lot more about trucks than we do.”  
  
They checked their ray gun holsters, then followed her outside. One of the men waved them over. “I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with it,” he said. “It’s never done this before.”  
  
Kobra and Cherri took turns fiddling with the engine. Cherri unscrewed caps, checking the fluid levels. He drew out the dip stick and wiped it clean with a rag. Kobra jumped into the front seat and checked the ignition switch. The men poked around at the engine, asked Kobra to turn the key, then poked around again. Whenever he turned the key, he heard only a faint clicking sound. Cherri was talking about trying to jumpstart the engine when Kobra glanced at the dashboard.  
  
“Hey,” he shouted, sticking his head out the window. “Did you guys notice that you’re out of fuel?”  
  
A shocked silence hung in the air. The men groaned, then burst out laughing. Kobra jumped out of the front seat and stepped back while the woman grabbed the emergency fuel. She poured the oil into the gas tank, then climbed into the seat and turned the key. The engine sputtered and roared to life. After a round of laughter and handshakes, Kobra and Cherri headed back to the car while the truck drove away, the tarp rippling in the wind.  
  
“I was starting to think they’d want us to go out back and push,” Cherri said.  
  
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Kobra said.  
  
He slammed the door and turned the key. Nothing happened. Kobra stared at the ignition, then turned the key again. The engine was silent. He looked at Cherri with disbelief, then turned the key back and forth. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said. “Oh, no fucking way!”  
  
The fuel gauge pointed to the red _E._ Kobra groaned and smacked the steering wheel, then slumped forward against the wheel. “Goddammit!” he said. “I knew those assholes looked suspicious. Why the hell didn’t they just ask us for a ride? We would’ve given it to them!”  
  
“Probably transporting drugs,” Cherri said. “Or illegal weapons. I bet they were from the black market.”  
  
“Son of a bitch,” Kobra said. “And they just siphoned our gas when we weren’t looking. Christ, what pieces of shit.”  
  
He jumped out of the car and slammed the door, then kicked the front tire. He paced back and forth, shouting and cursing. Cherri sat quietly in the passenger’s seat. Kobra threw himself back inside, his face greasy with sweat.  
  
“I’m going to call D,” Kobra said, grabbing his transmitter. “Tell them there’s a group of black market assholes that like to steal people’s gasoline.”  
  
“Kobra,” Cherri said. “Hang on. Wait. You know he’s not going to put it on his show.”  
  
“He should!” Kobra said. “Let people know about these assholes. Give them a warning.”  
  
“D doesn’t mess with the black market,” Cherri said. “You know that.”  
  
“We don’t know for sure that they were from the black market,” Kobra said.  
  
“No, but whatever they had back there must’ve been suspicious,” Cherri said. “Normal people wouldn’t do something like that.”  
  
“You sure about that?” Kobra said. He stopped, his eyes widening. “Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that—”  
  
“No, you’re fine,” Cherri said quickly. “It’s okay. I get it.”  
  
Kobra flopped back in the seat and covered his face with his hands. “What the hell are we going to do?” he said. “The nearest station’s ten miles away.”  
  
“Do you have any emergency fuel in the trunk?” Cherri said.  
  
“A little,” Kobra said. “Maybe enough to get us about three or four miles. I didn’t even think about filling it up today.”  
  
“You want to call somebody?” Cherri said. “Have them pick us up?”  
  
“Poison’s still in Zone Three,” Kobra said. “It’ll be sundown by the time he gets back. Ghoul and Jet are—God, I don’t even remember where the hell they are.” He rubbed the corners of his eyes. “They’re out working on one of the farms up north. If I interrupt them, they’ll lose an hour or two of work, plus the gas money it would take to get over here.”  
  
“What about Pony?” Cherri said. “Or Newsie?”  
  
Kobra paused, then reached for his transmitter again. “Yeah, I guess I could call them,” he said. “Man, I wish D could drive. I’d trust him to find his way out here more than I’d trust Pony.”  
  
After a few tries, Kobra managed to reach Show Pony on the transmitter. Pony said that they were at a radio expo in Zone Two, but they’d be back as soon as possible. He told them to seek cover; Kobra promised to call them with their coordinates. When the call was over, he sighed and sank back in his seat, tapping the transmitter against the palm of his hand.  
  
“All right, what next?” he said. “We can’t take shelter anywhere. It’s all empty desert for the next six miles.”  
  
“How much did you say was left in the fuel can?” Cherri said.  
  
“Not much,” Kobra said. “We might be able to creep along for another three or four miles.”  
  
“We can’t stay on the road,” Cherri said. “Maybe drive inland for about a mile or so. You’ve got the CT, right?”  
  
Kobra pulled old papers and magazines out of the glove compartment until he unearthed a small, clunky device held together with tape. When he switched it on, coordinates appeared on the screen. “Yeah, we’re good to go,” Kobra said. “Let’s see if I can avoid running into a patch of cacti this time.”  
  
The sun was high in the sky as Kobra drove through the desert. Tall grasses and shrubs brushed against the sides of the car. Kobra swerved a few times to avoid a large rock or a blackened stump. The tires occasionally spit rocks, dust gathering around the wheels. The sky was still blue, but dark clouds were starting to gather over the mountains.  
  
Kobra was thinking about parking behind a thick tree trunk when something silver glinted in the distance. Kobra furrowed his brow. As they drew closer, an old trailer came into view, shining in the sunlight like a nickel. A tattered, sun-bleached awning still hung over the doorway. The sides of the trailer were smeared with dirt and grime. One of the tires had been ripped off, leaving a rusty shell.  
  
“You think anybody still lives here?” Kobra said.  
  
“I’d be surprised if they did,” Cherri said. “There’s no car, no tire tracks. That fire pit hasn’t been used in a while.”  
  
Kobra adjusted the poker that jutted out of the fire pit. Grasses and weeds poked through the iron grate.  
  
They stood in front of the trailer for several moments, as if trying to make a decision. Finally, Kobra strode forward and reached for the handle. The door swung open, revealing a floor littered with smeared grime, empty soda cans, and crumpled balls of trash. Dusty magazines were stacked beside a pile of dishes in the sink. The windows were shut, the curtains drawn. Kobra coughed and waved a hand in front of his face.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Yeah, no one’s lived in there for a while. Smells like someone took a shit in there.”  
  
Cherri checked the bedroom, opened the tiny closet, and even peered in the cabinets. Kobra opened the bathroom door, then clamped a hand over his mouth and slammed it shut again. He threw the door open and pried open the windows to let the fresh air inside. Cherri swept the trash on the floor into a bucket. While he stepped outside with his transmitter, Kobra grabbed one of the magazines from the stack. He tried to turn the pages, but they were stuck together from water damage.  
  
Kobra looked up when Cherri walked through the doorway. “So what’d he say?” he said.  
  
“He wasn’t too happy,” Cherri said, pocketing his transmitter. “He said that if Pony’s not here in an hour, he’s driving over here himself.”  
  
Kobra laughed. “Yeah, Chow Mein’s going to kill him if he has to close up the store for an hour,” he said. He dropped the magazine on the stack, then leaned back against the couch. “Well, knowing Pony, we’ll either be out of here in fifteen minutes, or in twelve hours when he finally remembers.” He folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling. Thunder rumbled in the distance. He glanced at Cherri, then said “Maybe we should put some buckets outside.”  
  
They found two buckets under the sink. After wiping out the dust with a rag, they set the buckets outside. A few minutes later, the first raindrops made dark spots on the awning. Kobra sat on the front steps, watching the rain shower against the desert like a thin curtain. Cherri folded his arms and leaned against the trailer. The rain beat down against the trees and shrubs, the branches sagging forward with water trickling down the ends.  
  
Kobra shifted in his seat, then looked up at Cherri, whose expression was unreadable. He rubbed his nose with his thumb and looked away. Eventually the rain slowed down to a light shower, then reduced to a trickle. Finally, the only sound was the patter of water dripping off the awning. The damp smell of rain hung in the air. Kobra stood up and stretched his legs. He and Cherri carried the buckets inside, laying them in front of the sink. Kobra was searching the cabinets when Cherri opened his mouth.  
  
“Hey, uh—I’m going to take a walk for a little bit,” Cherri said.  
  
Kobra raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going far, are you?”  
  
“I’ll just be right outside,” Cherri said. “I’ve got my transmitter, if you need me.”  
  
“All right,” Kobra said. “Don’t wander off too far, man. I don’t know when Pony’s getting here.”  
  
Cherri nodded and headed outside. Kobra watched the doorway for a few moments, then pressed his lips together. He searched the cabinets until he found a yellowed box of litmus papers. When he dipped the paper in the water, the strip turned blue. He stowed the box in a drawer and sat down at the kitchen table, rolling his foot back and forth on the heel. Sunlight streamed through the windows.   
  
After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Kobra’s eyes fell on the suitcase. Light glinted off the rusty handle. He hauled the suitcase onto the table, then opened the latch. A stack of folded clothes was piled in the corner, next to a dusty canteen and a tin first-aid kit. Kobra drew out a set of dog tags and held them up to the light. The name was barely visible on the worn, crusty metal. He gently lay the tags on the stack of clothes, then opened the first-aid kit. A set of tweezers glinted beneath the wrinkled bandages and crumpled tube of ointment.  
  
Kobra closed the lid on the first-aid kit, then laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands. He was still studying the suitcase when Cherri walked in. His face was beaded with sweat.  
  
“Hey,” Cherri said. “I’m sorry that I went off on you earlier.”  
  
Kobra shook his head. “Don’t apologize, man,” he said, closing the lid on the suitcase. “You were right. I wasn’t there, I shouldn’t try to tell you what happened.”  
  
Cherri sat down across from him. “Do you think less of me now?” he said. “I mean, do you see me differently after what I told you?”  
  
Kobra was silent for a few moments. “It is what it is, man,” he said. “You know?”  
  
Cherri looked down at his hands. “You know, it wasn’t just Dracs, either,” he said. “I guess you noticed today that Tom gets pains in his wrist?” He cradled his wrist with his left hand.  
  
“What?” Kobra said. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I noticed that.”  
  
“That was me,” Cherri said. “I was having withdrawals one night. I was totally out of my mind. I threatened him, he pulled a gun in self-defense, and—” Cherri looked away. “I broke his wrist. Just snapped it like it was nothing.”  
  
Kobra looked away from the table, watching a cockroach crawl behind the trash bucket. “I mean, if you weren’t in your right mind…” he said.  
  
“It doesn’t really matter,” Cherri said quietly. “I just—I always thought that if you guys knew the full story, you wouldn’t accept me.”  
  
Kobra laughed faintly. “I used to think that if you knew my whole story, you wouldn’t accept me,” he said. “I’m serious. You’re so nice to everyone, and I’ve always been an asshole.”  
  
“I don’t think you’re an asshole,” Cherri said.  
  
Kobra shrugged. “Have you talked to Chow Mein about this?” he said.  
  
“Believe me, I’ve apologized to him plenty of times,” Cherri said. “He just says that it’s in the past. It’s over.”  
   
Kobra nodded with his eyes lowered. Neither of them spoke for a moment. The sunlight cast through the window made a square of light on the table.  
  
“Hey…listen,” Kobra said finally. “I just want you to know that—no matter what you say about your past, the guys and I aren’t going to abandon you.”  
  
Cherri nodded, almost to himself. He looked like he wanted to say something. But instead, he reached out and patted the back of Kobra’s hand.  
  
“Thank you,” he said. He smiled faintly, not making eye contact. “I think I’m going to wait outside, if you don’t mind,” he said after a few moments.  
  
“Yeah, I think I’ll go with you,” Kobra said. “The air’s getting stuffy in here.”  
  
They stepped outside, where the sun shined high over the mountains. The trees and shrubs were dry as if it hadn’t rained in weeks. Even the awning had dried in the sun. Kobra reached out and lay a hand on Cherri’s shoulder. They stood in silence for several minutes, watching the sunlight filter through the tree branches, until a silvery vehicle glinted on the horizon.


End file.
